


hello from the other side

by midnights



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Dick Jokes, Flirting, Fluff, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Haunting, Major Character Undeath, Poltergeists, Reincarnation, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:33:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnights/pseuds/midnights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You look just like him, you know.” The ghost says softly. “My soldier.”</p><p>Harry turns around to ask what he means, but he’s already gone.</p><p>ft. skeptic zayn, various emails to the Ghost Hunters crew, and boyfriends destined to meet in every lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hello from the other side

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea the other day and reaaaally wanted to write it, since it's right on schedule for Halloween!
> 
> The title is from Adele's 'Hello'
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [tumblr](http://harryindallas.tumblr.com/) !
> 
> Note as of 1/19/16: This work is and has been complete since I posted it. It doesn't have a second part, and I don't think it ever will. Sorry!

Harry is quite sure that his apartment is haunted.

It didn’t seem like it was when he and Niall first started renting the place, not at all.

But then the cabinets started opening by themselves, and Harry would find his phone turned on when he was sure he hadn’t been on it in quite some time, and sometimes the windows would be shut even after he’d just opened them. He’s Googled it more than a few times, and every time it’s the same result: there’s someone haunting his and Niall’s apartment.

Zayn doesn’t believe it, of course. He’s a skeptic. Liam believes it’s a ghost, though. And Niall thinks it’s the best thing to happen since sliced bread. Almost every day he leaves something for the ghost to mess with, whether it’s an opened door, or a chair that isn’t pushed in, or the remote, left on the couch instead of the table where it’s supposed to go (Harry usually fixes the last one, just because it pisses him off).

On this particular Tuesday, the ghost decides to draw a dick on his mirror.

“Oh my god.” Harry groans, tying his towel around his hips. “How _old_ are you, anyway?” He asks the (seemingly) empty room, wiping the foul picture off of the mirror with his hands.

There’s no answer except for the knot on his towel coming undone just as Niall bursts in.

Niall doesn’t even notice his nakedness, just rapidly begs him to come see what’s in the living room. So Harry picks up the towel and follows him in there, where he finds the living room completely empty, an episode of Gossip Girl playing on the TV.

“Wow, Niall. So glad I’m missing out on my leave-in conditioner for this.” Harry snaps.

Niall looks around wildly. “No, no, it was the pint! I went to go get a glass for my beer, and then I came back, and it was already poured into a different glass!”

“Are you sure you didn’t just do it yourself and then forget it?” Harry deadpans.

“He was just here! The ghost! I couldn’t see him, but he was here!”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Was he? Because he was just drawing dicks on the mirror.”

Niall’s eyes grow impossibly wider. “D’you think… d’you think there could be… _two ghosts_?”

A laugh bubbles out of Harry’s mouth. “I hope not, cause you can barely keep it in your pants for one.”

“Fine, be a dick about it.” He pouts. “Let’s see what Liam and Zayn think, eh?”

“Zayn-”

“- _doesn’t believe in ghosts_ , I know. But I’m having them over anyway.” Niall says, heading into the kitchen.

Harry doesn’t say anything, choosing instead to head into his room and put on something warm.

It’s there that he finds someone sitting on his bed.

Well, not sitting, per se, more like hovering. It’s got to be the same boy (man? man-boy?) that Niall just saw. He’s floating just a few inches off of the duvet, leaning back on his hands and looking at Harry curiously. Icy blue eyes stare at him from under narrow, curved eyebrows, and there’s a smirk on his thin pink lips. He wears a rumpled white shirt and a tie that must’ve been knotted messily, along with a pair of black pants and dirty black dress shoes.

Harry’s grip tightens on his towel, and he stares right back at the ghost. “Come to draw a dick on my wall, have you?”

“Came to have a look at you, actually.” The ghost says. His voice is airy and light but also a bit rough, a little higher-pitched than Harry would’ve imagined. He looks a little crestfallen.

Harry frowns, confused. “Um… why?”

“Wanted to see if you recognized me.” Says the ghost. “Guess not.”

He’s gone before Harry can think to ask why in the world he’d recognize the ghost haunting his apartment, or even to ask for his name.

Confused and a little freaked out, Harry pulls the towel off of his waist and begins to get dressed. Once he’s got clothes on, he makes his way into the living room, where Niall is sitting on the couch with his laptop, hastily typing something out, still looking just as stressed as before. There’s a bottle of beer on the coffee table, and Harry takes a swig of it as he sits down.

“What’re you doing?” He asks slowly, taking another sip.

Niall’s eyes don’t even flicker in his direction. “Emailing Ghost Hunters.”

Harry almost spits out his beer.

“You’re _what_?”

Niall looks at him pointedly. “I’m emailing Ghost Hunters, Harry. The show? The one we marathoned last Halloween after we got uninvited to that party?”

“We weren’t _uninvited_ , we got kicked out because you made out with George’s girlfriend.” Harry points out.

“How was I supposed t’ know she was his girlfriend? I’d never met her!” Niall protests.

Harry rolls his eyes, craning his neck to see what Niall’s written in the email. “I think you’re going a little too far with the pints pouring themselves, Ni. That’s never happened.”

“It did so! I saw it!” Niall shouts. “Well I didn’t see it, but-”

The door opens, and Liam and Zayn saunter inside. Zayn cocks his head at them. “What did you not see, Niall? Your little ghostie?”

“Liam, control your boyfriend.” Niall snaps, snatching his beer from Harry’s hand.

“Not my boyfriend,” Liam sings on his way to the couch.

“Well, whatever. We’re being haunted.” Niall says.

Liam speaks up. “Maybe the ghost is here for unfinished business.”

“Yeah, maybe he’s got something to do.” Niall agrees.

“Like what?” Zayn snorts.

Niall gets a dreamy look in his eyes. “Maybe he’s waiting for his reincarnated self to come and meet his reincarnated true love.”

Zayn laughs again. “Or maybe he’s _not_ _real_.”

Niall rolls his eyes, looking at Harry. “Hey, you guys want pints?”

Liam and Zayn both say yes, and Harry nods. “Yeah, sure.” He says.

“They’re in the fridge, get me one.” Niall grins.

“Fuck you.” Harry narrows his eyes at him, then heads into the kitchen.

Four beers are already waiting for him on the counter, fresh enough from the fridge that there isn’t even any condensation on them.

“Stop that, you’re freaking me out.” Harry says to the empty room.

He grabs the beers and heads into the living room, tossing them to his friends and then popping the tab on his own. An episode of LOST is playing on the TV, courtesy of Zayn for sure. When he notices the close proximity Liam and Zayn are sitting in, Harry turns towards them and narrows his eyes. Liam is leaning almost on Zayn’s chest, his hand resting on Zayn’s knee. It makes him suspicious.

Before he can ask about it though, Zayn goes to take a sip of his beer.

“Oh, before you drink you should know that those pints are haunted.” Harry says quickly.

\--

Later that night, when Harry’s woken up by Niall’s snoring and can’t fall back to sleep, he makes his way into the kitchen to fix himself some tea to calm himself down.

Harry doesn’t really process the figure sitting on the counter, already sitting with a steaming mug of tea  beside him, until he opens the fridge and his brain starts working. Turning slowly, Harry stares at the ghost perched on the counter. He looks the same as before, same shirt and tie and disheveled caramel hair. Raising a hand, the ghost waves at him and smiles, then points at the tea.

 _Peter Pan_ , Harry thinks. That’s why the ghost seems so familiar. It’s because he reminds Harry so much of Peter Pan, with his feathery hair and bright eyes and mischievous smile and nature. The floating around is also quite similar, since this ghost never seems to touch the ground. He never seems to touch anything, actually.

“Made some already.” Peter Pan says softly.

Harry narrows his eyes at him. He can almost see the yellow walls through Peter Pan’s torso, like he’s not entirely solid. “I can’t tell if you’re a helpful or hurtful poltergeist.”

Peter Pan smiles at that, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You know, Curly, I can’t tell either.”

“You’re sure there’s not salt in this?” Harry asks, approaching Peter (and the tea) warily.

“Positive.” Peter Pan nods. “Look, sugar’s right there. Even spilled some, clumsy me. I don’t usually take sugar in my tea, I wasn’t used to it.”

“Dead people can drink tea?” Harry asks. It sounds a little harsher than it had in his head.

Peter Pan’s smile falters. “No. Just a habit to think I can do normal things.”

“Oh.” Harry nods, taking the warm mug in his hands. “Why are you here?”

“I lived right next door to you, pal. But the place is empty now, so I hang here instead.” Peter Pan explains.

Harry nods, yawning. “Is it rude if I ask to go to bed? Because as much as I’m curious about you, I’ve also got work tomorrow.”

Peter Pan smiles again, and this time it makes his eyes crinkle at the sides. “Go ahead, Curly. Go to sleep.”

So Harry shuffles out of the kitchen, promising himself that he’ll ask for Peter Pan’s name next time. As he makes his way into the living room, he hears his voice again.

“You look just like him, you know.” The ghost says softly. “My soldier.”

Harry turns around to ask what he means, but he’s already gone.

\--

Harry doesn’t see Peter Pan again until he gets home from work on Friday, when he’s heading into the kitchen to get a water. He’s sitting on the counter again, rhythmically banging his feet against the cabinets. When he sees Harry, he waves, stopping his kicking and floating to the ground and towards him. Harry realizes with a start that he’s taller than this ghost.

“Hello again.” Harry says.

Peter Pan cocks his head. “Hello. Haven’t brought any friends back, hm?”

“You mean Niall?” Harry asks, and Peter Pan nods. “He’s at Zayn and Liam’s. They- uh, they’re my friends.”

“I’m dead, not stupid. I figured it out.” Peter Pan snaps.

Harry frowns. “You’re also not a very polite ghost, Pe-” He stops. “D’you have a name?”

“Of course I have a name.” Peter Pan says, then his face scrunches up as he concentrates. “I just- it’s hard for me to remember… things from before…”

“Oh.” Harry says.

Peter Pan cracks a smile, then laughs brightly at him. “I’m kidding! It’s Louis.”

“Dick.” Harry smiles back. “I’m Harry.”

Over the next few weeks, Louis appears to Harry almost every day. They become friends, spending their time talking and laughing about all sorts of things. And then one day, Harry asks the question he’s been dying to ask. He and Louis are sitting in the kitchen, playing a game of cards. Looking to Louis, he clears his throat.

“Lou?” He asks.

“Hmmmmm?” Louis doesn’t look up from his cards, which are floating in front of him.

There’s a pause. “Do you… d’you know how you died?”

“Mhm.” Louis nods, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s still partially transparent, and Harry can see the fridge through his body. “Car accident.”

Harry chews on the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to say. “Um… I’m sorry about that.”

“S’okay. Too late now, innit?” Louis shrugs. “How old are you?”

“Twenty one, why?” Harry cocks his head.

“Just wondering. And I’m twenty three, if you were wondering.” Louis says, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Harry nods, thinking. “I thought ghosts could only haunt the place where they died.”

“Yeah. I died right in front of this apartment building.” Louis says. “So I can ‘haunt’ the whole building.”

“Oh, okay.” He hesitates. “And… were you a soldier? You said… a few weeks ago...”

Louis’s cheery disposition fades. “Yeah. I was a soldier.” He looks towards the door. “Someone’s coming. And I don’t think the other ones can see me, so it’d look like you’re talking to yourself.”

“I don’t care.” Harry shakes his head. “I want to know more about you. C’mon.”

He makes his way into his bedroom, checking every few seconds to make sure that Louis is following him. When he gets inside, he turns to shut the door behind Louis, only to find that Louis has already shut it. Sitting on the bed, Harry looks at Louis imploringly. Louis frowns, crossing his arms over his transparent chest.

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “I’ve only just met you. Why should I tell you my life story?”

Harry nods. “Actually we know each other quite well, but it’s fine. I can respect that.” He says. “Well, I’m Harry Styles. I was born in Cheshire in a town called Holmes Chapel. I have an older sister named Gemma, who lives in London. I have a cat named Dusty who lives with Gemma because this place doesn’t allow pets, my favorite color is green, and I love hearing about ghost’s life stories.”

Louis laughs then, bright and bubbly. “Alright, Curly. I get it.”

“Your turn.” Harry says, smiling at him.

“Okay, fine.” Louis sighs. “Name’s Louis Tomlinson. I was from a little town called Doncaster in Yorkshire, and I had five sisters and a brother. I’m not sure if any of them are alive anymore.” He says slowly, and Harry can hear the sorrow in his voice. “I was seventeen when people started getting drafted. And then when I was nineteen, we were drafted. Me and my Harry.”

Harry cocks his head. “Y-... your Harry?”

“We were… together. It was more of a big deal back then, I think. But we loved each other anyway.” Louis says. “We were there for four years. At the start of the fourth year, I got shot, and had to be sent home. My accident happened a little over a month after I got back home. I don’t even know what happened to my Harry.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment; doesn’t even know what he would say. Sorry your boyfriend was probably killed? Sorry you were killed too? So he stays quiet, watching Louis as he looks out the window. Suddenly, Louis’s head snaps towards the wall, which is adjacent to the apartment next door. Before Harry can ask about it, Louis passes through the wall and is gone.

Harry flops back on the bed, sighing. Confused doesn’t even begin to cover the way he’s feeling. Louis said he looks just like his Harry, so does that mean this ghost is in love with him? The first time he’d seen him, Louis had asked if he recognized him, oh god. It makes so much sense. He doesn’t know how long he lays there thinking, but eventually he falls asleep.

Some time later, he’s woken up by Niall. “Harry! Get up! We have a neighbor!” He’s yelling.

“Can’t we go meet ‘em later?” Harry groans.

“Nope, we’re going now.” Niall tugs at his arm. “And we’re bringing pints as a welcoming gift.”

Harry sighs. Niall isn’t going to let him get out of this one. “Fine.”

Niall pulls him to his feet, and he stumbles over to the mirror to try to get his hair to look presentable. Once satisfied, he follows Niall out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. Where did Louis disappear off to? Niall grabs the pints, and they make their way into the hallway. The door next to theirs is ajar, held open with a box of books. Harry steps into the doorway and rings the bell, and the two of them wait to meet their new neighbor.

“Hi! We’re your neighbors!” Niall calls.

There’s the sound of something falling, and then someone’s voice rings out. “I _just_ fixed that! Here I come!”

The voice sounds oddly familiar to Harry. The neighbor comes to the door, a smile on his face. He’s a bit shorter than Harry, with disheveled caramel hair and bright blue eyes. His smile is the smile of someone who loves to cause trouble. He wears a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, along with a pair of Vans that probably used to be white.

“Hello! I’m your new neighbor, Louis.”

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to leave a comment and give kudos if you liked it! Feedback is much appreciated xx


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